Moral Decadence
by Katia-chan
Summary: There's no love left for him, and yet he stands on that corner, willing to fall into that world of loneliness and pain again if only to be held and reminded of what he has lost. Prostitution and Shonen-ai


Moral Decadence

By Katia-chan

A/N: There's not much to be said, another twisted fic from my twisted mind. Hope you will continue to read! This will probably crawl itself into a few more chapters…if I update it.

A few warnings before I begin, mostly there will be some rather not nice language. It's shonen-ai, so if that bothers you then don't read on.

Sex and a touch of violence are about it.

Enjoy!

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He stood at the bar, wiping down the glasses for another crowd of the tired drunks that seemed to flock to this lonely corner of this lonely place. The Black Cherry nightclub was as cliché as its name. The windows were dirty, the furniture was cracked and the lights that flowed on the dance floor seemed to pulse in their own lonely heartbeats. Nothing felt in sync with the world, and it was a place for the lonely to crawl.

The black and red lights fell across his back as he purposely faced away from the dance floor, no need to watch them all attempt to sweat away their pain, he had enough of his own. The glass in his hand shown and he put it on the shelf, just in time to have the lights turn out for a brief break and the crowd flowing over to where he would serve them drinks.

"Hey beautiful!" He glanced over at the fat man sitting on a bar stool and grimaced. Another old lonely fat man who would cling to him all night.

"What can I get you?" he asked, his soft voice echoing in as friendly and yet aloof way as he could make it.

"Gin, and a nice kiss if you don't mind." He quirked an eyebrow in amusement, so, the bastard was sober enough to realize he was a boy, there was no mistaking that look on his face. The guy knew he wasn't looking at a woman.

"Sorry, I don't give those out to anyone but the platinum members. Go try the girls out-front." The guy's buddies laughed and gave him their drink orders. He went over to the cupboards where the liquor was kept and began mixing them. Feeling provocative he moved his hips as he worked, getting the expected hoots and hollers from the men waiting behind him. Hey, it was his job to be beautiful and provoke them into coming back for more, and he was good at it. That faded wooden counter separated him from their real intentions and so he felt free to play the flirt, to play their games.

"You sure you're not giving out favors tonight angel?" He turned around to the man, laughing despite himself. Not the first time he'd been called that, but somehow working in a bar and acting like a male slut didn't strike him as angelic, but he smiled at the man anyway and waved an airy hand.

"Not unless you're buying me a house to go home to later buddy, here's your brandy." He slid the glass across to the man and the guy grinned, dropping a few bills into the tip jar. He gave him a big smile. That should buy dinner tonight if he was lucky. The crowd was appreciative and he decided to go out on a limb for them. No one looked to poor to give a good tip, and if it was good enough he might actually be able to afford the rent on his shitty apartment and buy himself a nice dinner in a place that didn't have female attractions outside. It'd be a nice change.

"Martini over here hotshot," he brushed his hair out of his face and started to fix the drink. Moving with slow supple and irritatingly tantalizing movements he fixed it and slunk over to the man. The guy sighed happily, and as he turned away the guy grabbed his ass. He spun around and slapped the hand away.

"Oh no, you don't have enough money to buy that fine piece of merchandize."

"How much you chargin there precious?" The men in the bar turned to him with amused interest. He smiled wryly at them.

"More then any of you can afford, believe me." There was a roar of laughter.

"You think you're that expensive?" someone joked. He shook his hips a little more.

"You know I am."

"Well come on, humor us, how much?" He thought about ignoring the question, but several guys were reaching for their wallets and he knew he could get good tips out of them at least. He considered it for a moment.

"Fifty grand." He said. The bar erupted and guys started laughing and looking at their wallets with chagrin. A few pulled out tips and some looked truly disappointed. Poor lonely bastards he thought. They would have to pay for it tonight, he was cheaper then the girls outside.

"You promise?" some guy asked, he was an old patron. Smiling he nodded. This guy was just messing with him; there would be a healthy tip in the jar tonight since he had come.

"Yep, fifty grand and I'm yours." There was a bit more rocus laughter, and then a quiet voice behind him.

"Here you are boy." He spun around. There was a man sitting at the bar, no drink in front of him and a check in his hand. "Fifty thousand, as you offered." His breath caught in his throat. No one was supposed to have that much money here, it had been a safe wager. The man's green eyes glinted in the light and his black hair fell smoothly around his face.

"I," he started lamely, but couldn't think of what to say.

"You promised, and I've been needing someone to fill a recently emptied post." The smirk that played on the young man's face sent chills down his spine, and he couldn't move. Was this creep serious? He wanted to believe that he wasn't, but something in his jaded eyes told him that the guy was dead serious. He had to fix this, had to make his mistake right before the glint in the man's eyes threatened to make him come apart.

"Cle. Clear out everyone," he called in a shaky voice. "I'm closing up early tonight." His voice continued to tremble, and somehow the men around him sensed something was wrong, because they left immediately and he was left staring at the stranger. "What are you playing at. You know it was all in fun."

A slow smile slid across the man's face. "I don't think it will be fun anymore kid. Especially if you go back on your word.

"What word? I was just," but he cut himself off. His pounding heart wouldn't allow him to continue. The man stood up, and his hight drained the blood away, leaving him white and shaking.

"Seriously kid, are you going to come, or do I have to bruise that pretty body of yours?" He backed away quickly. His back hit the cupboards behind him.

"Get out of here before I call security you pervert." He knew the words were ineffective, but they were all he had to cling to. The stranger laughed, and before another word could be said he slammed the boy up against the wall.

"Just shut your mouth you foul little slut." He opened his mouth to scream and the stranger fastened his fingers around his throat. Choking on his scream he felt the man's fingers digging into his skin, crushing his windpipe. "I offered a peaceful alternative. You should have taken it." The man kept his strangle hold with one hand and pulled a cloth out of his pocket. The guy didn't think gagging him as they left would work, did he? That was stupid. His train of thought stopped abruptly as the hand around his throat was released and the cloth was pressed firmly to his mouth and nose. He choked on the smell and felt his senses leaving him. Damn it, the guy was using chloroform! He fought to get the cloth away, to breathe, but he felt his strength leaving him as the fumes penetrated his brain.

He slumped to the floor in a daze. Hearing soft laughter above him he felt a pair of strong arms lift him. "That's better now, isn't it."

They walked right through the club. He tried to cry out, tried to say something to let them know he was in trouble, but he could barely open his eyes, the world was spinning so badly and he felt as if he were floating through water. Somewhere far away his heart leapt with joy as he heard the security guard's voice.

"Where you taking him? What's wrong?" He wanted to scream, to cry for help, but his lips wouldn't even form the words he so desperately needed to scream.

"Oh, I think he had something bad to drink or something, collapsed behind the bar. I'm a friend. I'm taking him home to get some rest." 'No no no!' he screamed inside his head, but he felt so heavy, so tired.

They were outside, the cold night air seemed to be hitting someone else, he couldn't even shiver. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it kid?" Suddenly he felt damp lips against his, crushing them, bruising them. He whimpered, the only sound he seemed to be capable of and he heard the man laugh again. "Innocent little lamb, and oh so beautiful. You look so pretty when you cry." It was now he realized that from somewhere far off he could feel tears spilling down his cheeks. He was slowly coming back into his body, though he felt too weak to blink.

Sobs racked his chest, and the whimpering sounds continued to break from him, and the man continued to laugh.

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After a few more minutes they stopped, he heard a door open and then they were inside a building and the man was walking up some stairs. A door opened and he felt himself being dumped on the floor. The wave of nausea that followed was enough to make him nearly pass out completely. "Malik!" the man called. He flinched at the loud noise, and jumped when the call was answered.

"What the hell do you want!"

"Get your tight ass up here!" There were footsteps coming up the stairs and then someone else entered the room. There was a sharp intake of breath. "Get him cleaned up."

"Christ Duke, he's just a kid." A sharp slap echoed in the silence and there was a defeated sigh. "Fine fine, I'll do it, just get out of here." The door slammed shut and there was a grunt as someone pulled themselves off the floor. He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched. "Relax, the jack ass is gone. Open your eyes for a moment, if you don't mind." He complied slowly, feeling nautious as the world spun around him. He was met with a pair of violet eyes staring at him intently. "God, he really did a number on you. What's your name kid?"

"Ryou." He murmured softly, feeling too ill to protest. The boy called Malik smiled and gently lifted Ryou's head off the floor.

"Ryou huh? Well, as you already heard, I'm Malik, Malik Ishtar." He forced a smile and then shut his eyes again. What the hell did it matter who he was? "Can you sit up?" He shook his head slowly and felt the boy's arms wrap around his shoulders. He cringed away from the touch and heard Malik chuckle.

"You've gotta quit doing that, cleaning you up isn't going to be easy if you keep running away from me. Relax, I'm not going to beat you or anything." Malik pulled him slowly to a sitting position, and when he felt the world spin faster he was leaned up against a wall.

"What do you mean clean me up?" he asked nervously. This day had already been shitty enough, he didn't need primping to die.

"Well, you've got some blood on the back of your head, a few bruises there that look like they need some ice, and some nasty looking ones on your neck that look quite painful. Just call me the first aid kit." He almost got up enough energy to smile. Malik pushed Ryou's white hair out of his face and gently traced one of the still damp tear tracks down his face. "That dumb bastard. I really don't know what he was thinking. You can't be more then sixteen."

"Nineteen," he murmured. Malik leaned closer.

"What'd you say?"

"I'm nineteen," he stated a little louder. Malik looked surprised and smiled at him.

"Guessing age was never my strong suit. But to my credit, you do look much younger," he paused and then sighed softly. "You look so delicate too, damn him." He growled and put a hand on Ryou's shoulder.

"I feel sick." Ryou said softly. It was the only thing he could think of to say right now. His stomach churned violently.

"I'm sure you do, that's quite an evening. Let me help you to the other room and we'll get you fixed up, you'll feel better." He pulled him gently and slowly to his feet. Ryou thought he would be ok until he was fully standing. The world made a violent twist and the next thing he knew he was on the floor again, his stomach rejecting everything and sending him heaving to his knees.

"Good god," Malik said, pulling his hair back and holding his shoulders as he retched. The pain racked is body and he could feel the tears starting again. What in the hell had the man used on him? This hurt so much he wanted to die. "Kid!" Malik's voice echoed in his head, sounding frightened. Then there were other noises, laughter and sobbing and screams, all so far away.

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He opened his eyes and the world was dark. He lay there, trying to remember what had happened when a hand descended on his forehead.

"So, you're awake, are you?" the voice was strange yet familiar.

"Who, where," he stopped, his throat hurt. He heard a chuckle above him.

"Marik Ishtar, you met my brother Malik earlier. He's coming back with water for you." He sighed in relief, his throat burned like fire. The door opened and he flinched from the light. Malik stood in the room, looking furious.

"Hey kid." He said, walking over and sticking a straw between Ryou's cracked lips. He latched onto it and drank greedily. Malik took the glass away. "Careful, don't want you to get sick again. Now, I'm going to fix up those bruises for you." As he worked he carried on a low conversation with his brother as Ryou lipped in and out of sleep.

"The asshole used chloroform."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Malik growled low in his throat. "Don't know what he was thinking, the kid was probably allergic."

"So he just collapsed?"

"Yeah, Poor kid. Heard from an overheard conversation that the kid works in that tacky nightclub a few miles away. Guess a little wager at the bar got out of hand and the poor guy ended up drugged and lying on my bedroom floor."

"He really is beautiful though." There was a sigh above him.

"I know, and that mother fucker just ruined any chances this kid has. You know you never get out of this. We found that one out quick." There was a moment of reverential silence.

"Well, he's not the first, and he most certainly won't be the last." Another sad silence followed, and he heard no more.

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Ryou planted a supple kiss on the neck of the older business man. "I hope you enjoyed your trip." He purred into his ear.

"Oh I did my little nymph, I'll find you again when I come back." Ryou put on a sexy smile and took the bills the man offered. As soon as the man had walked away he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Go fuck a tree," he growled at the retreating form and then turned to walk back to the house.

"Ryou!" he spun around to see Malik running down the street, his tight purple belly shirt dirty and messed. He waved and stopped.

"You look like you had some fun." He commented dryly as Malik brushed leaves out of his hair.

"Oh yeah, the asshole had a thing with being cold, so we had to screw in the park. Honestly, the sick fantasies of some people." Ryou laughed and showed Malik the two hundred dollars he held in his hand.

"Interested in a little coffee? It's three in the morning, perfect time for breakfast. I'm sure Tokai won't notice a few bucks missing." Malik grinned and steered them towards their favorite coffee house.

"Yeah he will, cheap bastard, but ah well, not much he can do about it, he fires us he loses half his income." Ryou sighed and smiled tiredly.

"The shit people will keep around for money. Not including me of course." He received a punch in the shoulder and a yank of his hair for his trouble.

"Yeah, it's just because you look pretty. He's so shallow."

"He's not that shallow, he keeps your ugly self around." They continued to bicker over coffee and a plate of toast for a few more minutes. Malik complained about his last customer and Ryou slipped back into his own thoughts for a moment.

He was kept around for money, and money had started all this. He sighed softly and thought the same regretful thoughts he thought all the time. The if only's and might have been's floated around in his head until Malik pulled on his hair again.

"You left me for a minute there," he said, and then noticed the look on Ryou's face. He sighed, it was the same look he had seen so many times on the white haired boy's face so many times, and it still made him sad, still mad him think of the sick scared and angry boy who had been tossed into a life he didn't want.

"Sorry, guess I was just thinking." Malik touched his cheek gently, all humor going from his eyes.

"Someday you have to let this go Ry. You've let it torture you for way to long. I don't like it when you don't smile." Ryou smiled sadly and stood.

"I'm working on it, now let's go before Tokai has a stroke." They walked out of the diner. Trying to be happy despite their circumstances, and trying to forget what they'd left behind. They both had scars to cover and ignore, but both still felt the pain of old wounds splitting open when their thoughts strayed to far back, to far into a past that seemed so much better then this.

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A/N: Well, to know if you don't like it you have to review, and to know if you do there are also reviews required! Again I apologize for the language if it offended you. Hope you enjoyed this anyway!

This has several ways it could go, so if you have a brainstorm and have something to suggest let me know and I'll put it into the ideas section of my poor twisted little brain.

Thanks for reading!

TTFN

Katia-chan


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